Dethdrabbles
by superlabelgirl
Summary: A series of drabbles about brutal guys, inspired by (and written during) some non-brutal songs. Rated M for violence, profanity, sex, drugs, and metal.


**1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.**

**2. Put iTunes or equivalent media player on random.**

**3. For each song that plays, write something related to the theme you picked inspired by the song. You have only the time frame of the song: no planning beforehand: you start when it starts, and no lingering afterward; once the song is over, you stop writing. (No fair skipping songs either; you have to take what comes by chance!)**

**4. Do 5 of these (at least), then post.**

(So I thought this looked like a cool thing to try, and after having seen Xaviariam do it with Pickles, I decided to do it with Metalocalypse as a whole. As much as I love the show, I don't really have much that qualifies as metal on my iTunes, so this is going to be a lot of metal people set to un-metal songs, sorry about that. I cheated a little and finished up a sentence or two after the song ended, and did a little basic editing for spelling, grammar, and clarity. I'm especially proud of the last one- I would make an AMV of that if there were enough footage. Rated M for violence, profanity, sex, drugs and metal… what else would you expect? Enjoy!)

1) You're Going Back: Tallest Man on Earth (Pickles, modern day)

Pickles stared at the old documentaries of Snakes and Barrels, of those days where everything was as colorful as the booze and pills made it seem, back before he gave up the Technicolor glam for the black of death metal. It wasn't that he wasn't happy where he was, he had fame, acclaim, booze and bitches aplenty. But it was worth it to hook up with the old band, even if just for nostalgia's sake.

2) Hear Me Out: Frou Frou (teenage Pickles)

He paused to vomit before he returned to the phone, continuing the message on her answering machine. Fourteen minutes and counting, but it was nothing new. Pickles was notorious for drunk dialing, and his alcohol and phone were always at hand these days, more or less all that could be depended on. Strangely, he hadn't known that he had maybe fallen for this girl until he he left a rambling message on her phone, drunk out of his mind, telling her so. But if need be, he could blame it on a blackout. He always did. And maybe that was why she had long since stopped answering.

3) Coohkooh Bird: Jose Docen (teenage Murderface)

Murderface hadn't told anyone where he was going. If anyone asked, he would have told them to fuck off, would have flipped them off and given them his best intimidating glare. But no one had asked, so it didn't much matter. His grandmother was off at bingo, the fat cunt, and his grandfather wouldn't have asked even if he could have. So he had snuck out to the cemetery, finding the headstones, seeing his parents' names, the epitaphs careful not to mention the circumstances of their demise. Him. He pulled out his switchblade and notched up the headstones, his father's mostly, and this kept the emotions at bay.

4) Hymn (Album Version): Joey Altruda (Pickles, SnB era)

Everything in his body was fucking twitching, itching, shivering, as he stared over the edge of the bridge. A film of ice had formed over the edge of the water, and he couldn't stop laughing. When Tony and the rest of the band found him, they thought that it has been a suicide attempt, but that had just made him laugh harder. If they had heard the itching in his head, and how fucked up their ignorance sounded against that itchy dope-fueled sound, they would have known how fucking funny that was. He _was_ killing himself, but the bridge was not how. The drugs, the music, the mindless destruction of self- _this_ was how. Pickles didn't need no fucking bridge to burn out, as bright as his hair against the icy sky.

5) The Build Up: Kings of Convenience (Skwisgaar, modern day)

Skwisgaar had never much had to actually seduce a girl before. Mostly, they just threw themselves at him. He was a god, after all, and just by going out and performing, they were all over him like bitches in heat. Part of him wished that it had been harder, because the build-up was almost always better than the deed itself. Part of him vaguely hoped in his mess of fucking random sluts that he would find something real, something that felt like more than sweat and cum. He tried with all sorts of women: young, old, fat, thin, all races, just to find someone that would stay in his mind after he had fucked them. Nothing so far. Maybe it was because it was so easy, because he didn't have to try. Maybe this is what his mother had been looking for, and never found. But he didn't like that thought, so he pushed the latest girl's head around his cock and slipped right back into vapid indulgence.

6) Recollections of the Wraith (The Hello Sequence): Shabazz Palaces (Murderface, during Residualsklok)

Get Thee Hence was doing some sort of rap deal, and it sure as hell wasn't metal, but it didn't sound half bad after he and Toki sampled a little of the band's heroin. Murderface had taken a break from working on the demos by just letting the song play, one of the few that had actually gotten recorded in its entirety, as he laid on the carpet. It felt soft as fuck, like it was going to float him, or swallow him whole in soft bubbles, bloody and warm. Toki had gotten into the microphones and was tapping against them, trying to freestyle to the rap and speaking in some mix of Norwegian and gibberish. A well-deserved break, he thought, as he let the soft blood carpet seep into his skin.

7) From Above: Ben Folds and Nick Hornby (Nathan, modern day)

It was just a quick moment. It was nothing, really. His eyes locked with someone in the crowd, one face among thousands. One girl that was not screaming in ecstasy or agony, not doing anything but staring at him with a strange sort of intensity. Someone that he thought he had seen before. But then he looked back and lost the sight of her in the crowd. Some part of him thought, maybe that could have been her, the one that could stand by me as I darken this sick and decaying world. In a quiet, denying sort of way, Nathan had always had that romantic spark in him, that there was someone out there that he could stay with, live with until they died together, bled into each other, rotted into each others' decaying filth. Maybe that could have been her. But regret wasn't metal, and the sluts helped him forget the notion of destiny.

8) He Won't Go: Adele (Nathan, during Church of the Black Klok)

Nathan stood up at the podium, next to the corpse of the man that had gotten Dethklok started, vomiting blood. This itself was nothing remarkable, not the podium, nor the corpse, nor the blood vomit. He had done enough of all this for it to be nothing new. What was making him shake was that he was looking at Pickles, still vomiting intermittently, because he was trying to apologize. He felt like he was going to die from the effort of admitting the wrong he had done, how much of an asshole he had been. But it was worth it to keep the band, to keep his drummer. To keep something that mattered. When Pickles came up to him, he nearly crushed his newly regained drummer's ribs in the hug, but neither of them much cared. Nathan had taken the risk, and it had paid off. They were in this brutal game together.

9) Hollywood- Marina and the Diamonds (general, modern day)

The crowd was getting unruly again, throwing themselves against the tour bus, grinning madly as they exposed self-inflicted cuts on their bodies bleeding the band's praises, the occasional "Dethklok roksssss" smeared across the windows in blood and bile. Charles had them tasered, but it only slowed them down. "Wowee, these fans sure loves us," Toki marveled as he watched a fan set himself on fire to get the band's attention. "In Scandinavia, no ones ever goes quite this far before the concerts." Charles sighed slightly. "Celebrity obsession is quite the cultural hobby in this country, Toki," he explained. "Your status has merely brought that to its, uh, most brutal progression."

10) Cosmic Love- Florence and the Machine (Dick Knubbler)

Dick Knubbler had always been a little bit of a directionless spazz, letting life lead him wherever he would go, slipping into sex, crime, and conspiracy as it suited him. Nothing had ever made a huge impression on him before, and when he was drafted by the Tribunal to spy on Dethklok, it was just another shady side job, albeit one that might clear his name. He had heard of Dethklok before, knew of their status, but had never seen what the big deal was. But that was before he had been in the tiny submarine with nothing but their music and the pressure of the sea, pounding at him, cleansing him, destroying him until his eyes bled and popped from their sockets. He screamed with every fiber of his being as his scream harmonized with the sound. There was nothing but darkness and darker music, and he gave himself to the darkness. Even after they gave him new (metal) bionic eyes, the darkness stayed within him. From that day forward, Dick ticked for the Dethklok.


End file.
